


The Golden Standard

by konfoz



Category: Vengeful - V.E. Schwab, Vicious - V.E. Schwab, Villains Series - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Choking, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Eli is 20, M/M, Rich Bitch Victor Vale, Sugar Baby Eli Cardale, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Victor Vale, Touching, Victor is 45
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konfoz/pseuds/konfoz
Summary: Sugar Daddy Victor likes to treat his Sugar Baby, but that doesn't mean Eli won't put up a fight.
Relationships: Eli Cardale | Eli Ever/Victor Vale
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	The Golden Standard

**Author's Note:**

> this project is purely for fun so it has not been beta'd!!!

Usually when Eli receives a text during one of his labs, he ignores the vibrating device in his pocket. Both of the professors that teach his labs this year have a strict no electronics policy, and it makes sense when students are dealing with potentially harmful substances. 

Victor always reprimands Eli for his inability to concentrate, so Victor never texts him when he knows that Eli has a class. He has gone on about the importance of education more times than Eli could count, so he tries not to say anything that could potentially trigger those talks again. He would very much love to avoid another one of those, “Just because you are naturally gifted does not mean that you should not study or attend class, Eliot.”

But halfway into his organic chemistry lab period, Eli feels three succinct buzzes coming from his phone. When his professor is on the other side of the room, evaluating a student’s test tube rack, he pulls the device out of his chinos.

**I’m picking you up once you get out at 2pm.**

**Don’t bother with your bike.**

**You better be paying attention in class.**

He doesn’t dare answer, knowing he’d get the scolding of his life if he did, but the corner of his lips quirk up without his doing.

* * * * *

As Eli unlocks his bike from the side of the science building, he tries to guess which vehicle Victor will arrive in today. It’s not unusual for Victor to show up in fancy sports cars that all look the same in that sleek, expensive way, but Eli has expressed his discomfort to Victor one too many times; It feels unnatural for him to climb inside a Lamborghini or Aston Martin in front of all his classmates, especially since he can barely afford the clothes off his own back.

Eli finds the black Rolls Royce Cullinan idling in front of the main steps with Victor’s driver, Dol, standing beside it. 

He moves to open the trunk to attempt to fit his bike in there, but Dol lays a hand on the handlebars and mutters, “I’ve got it from here, Mr. Cardale.” Before he knows it, the man opens the back door of the vehicle to reveal its crimson interior, and he ushers Eli inside before he can get a word in.

The door slams shut behind him, but Eli is too focused on the man beside him to notice. Victor sits to his left wearing his usual all-black ensemble: a turtleneck underneath an immaculate blazer, slacks, and some sort of designer belt. There is a black leather folio on the tray table attached to the back of the seat in front of him, and he skims through the papers while on the phone. He hasn’t looked at Eli once.

“I heard what you said earlier, Mr. Gibson, but I chose to ignore it.”

Eli spaces out from there, knowing that these business calls can last forever when it comes to Victor. He stares at the groups of students heading back to the dorms or their next classes through the tinted window. He’s vaguely aware of the sound of Dol settling his bike in the space behind them, shutting the trunk, and climbing into the driver’s seat.

Victor’s still on the phone as they begin to take the entrance to the freeway, and Eli is too out of it to ask Dol where they’re headed. He’s tried to weasel answers out of him before, but Eli has learned by now that he’ll only get a response from Victor. If the man even wants him to know.

Eli begins to drift off to the soothing timbre of Victor’s voice, his head against the window next to him. His head lolls before he almost knocks it against the glass pane, his whole body nearly jumping off the seat.

Victor’s right hand has found its way curled onto the inside of Eli’s left thigh.

It’s an electric shock to his system, all traces of sleep forgotten, as Victor absentmindedly rubs his thumb on his leg. Eli’s entire body tenses up, his arms placed firmly in his lap, and his head whips to his left, but Victor continues to drone on the phone. Ignoring his presence. As if nothing is happening. As if he doesn’t know what his touch is doing to him. As if he doesn’t know that his steady hand on his thigh is sending thousands of crackling sparklers throughout Eli’s entire body.

When Eli proceeds to pull away the grip on his thigh tightens, and Eli is unsure if he should make a more valiant attempt to provoke him. But one squeeze from Victor has those thoughts perishing immediately, so Eli tries to focus on staying completely still by looking fixedly at the pale hand in front of him.

He can see the veins on Victor’s hand that start at his jacket sleeve and work their way towards the knuckles, prominent against the paleness of his skin and the bulging of his muscles. Eli’s eyes catch the gold ring he always wears on his right ring finger, and he squints to make out three small rubies inlaid on the band. 

He’s about to reach out and touch it before the car stops to a halt. Eli is pulled from his inspection and realizes that they’ve made it to North Coast Center, one of the most high-end shopping malls in the area. He turns to question Victor, but the other man is out of the car with the phone pressed between an ear and shoulder, and before Eli notices the cold feeling that his touch has left behind.

* * * * *

“Do you have the suit in gray?”   
  


Eli rolls his eyes as Victor reclines in the white chaise lounge behind him, appraising him in the mirror, while a sales assistant who looks to be about Victor’s age frets around the pair.

“Of course sir,” says the employee, his stubby legs practically shaking beneath the weight of Victor’s question, “Let me go grab one.”

Eli turns away from his reflection and scowls at Victor, “I said I liked the blue.”

Victor blinks slowly, an expression of complete boredom on his face. He uncrosses his leg and slowly sits up straighter. “I think you should try on the gray.” The glare Eli sends his way is sharp enough to cut through steel, but Victor doesn’t rise to the bait---only his eyebrows go up.

The assistant, now sweating, shifts his weight on both his feet to hide his hesitation. “Should I still bring out the gray one, sir?”

Eli scowls at whom the question is addressed to, but Victor holds Eli’s eyes as he murmurs an affirmative. The man disappears out the room with haste, the air thick and stifling.

When Victor finally got off his phone call when they arrived at their destination, he led Eli to one of the fancy department stores closest to their wing of the mall. The place has five floors worth of luxury items and designer clothing, and although Eli has walked through this shop before, it was never to peruse the rows of expensive suits, shoes, or jewelry.

Mitch is hosting a last-minute company dinner, so Victor wanted to ensure that Eli had something appropriate to wear for the occasion. Eli just didn’t expect to be stripped of his casual clothes and dressed in pieces that cost more than his college tuition.

Once he peels his gaze away from Victor’s, the older man gets up and places himself between the mirror and the elevated ottoman that Eli stands on. They’re almost the same height now, and Eli forces down the sandpaper lodged in his throat.

Victor hums and brushes a piece of lint off the suit that Eli swears in his mind is not there. “The gray will bring out the green in your eyes.”

Eli cannot believe they’re still having this conversation. “What’s wrong with the one I’m wearing?”

“Nothing,” Victor replies, both hands now on Eli’s dangling arms, “But I think you’ll look quite handsome in gray.”

Red tints his cheeks before he can try and force it down, and Eli mutters a small, “I don’t like this.”

Victor takes a step back, arms crossing his chest, and Eli instantly despises the space between their bodies.

Eli rushes to explain, “I mean  _ this _ .  _ You _ -“ He winces, “-making decisions for me. For paying for all of this. I’m just not comfortable with it.”

Once Victor realizes that Eli is talking about the situation at hand and not their relationship, his stance relaxes a bit. He gets close enough that Eli can feel his breath on his cheek. “I know our relationship still needs some getting used to, but this is what a Sugar Daddy does. He pays for all the expenses, and takes the reins on this sort of stuff.” Victor leans back with a serious expression on his face, and he makes sure to stare straight-on when he says, “If you would like to make some amendments to the contract, we can certainly discuss that at length.” Victor closes his eyes for a brief moment, and when he opens them again Eli sees a cold barrier erected in its depths. “Or terminate it, if that is what you want.”

Eli shakes his head without hesitation, and the walls in Victor’s eyes crumble like dried stones in front of his very eyes. Before he knows what’s happening, Victor has a hand around his throat, light enough that it doesn’t hurt him but heavy enough to feel like a  _ brand _ on his skin.

Victor leans forward, his words a whisper against the shell of Eli’s ear, “Daddy wants to take care of his Baby. Are you going to be a good boy and listen?”

Eli can’t breathe, not because of the strength of Victor’s hold, but because of the current of voltage that singes from their skin-to-skin contact. He’s frozen by the intensity in Victor’s stare and the weight of his grip around his throat, but a thrill of desire runs through him from his neck downwards.

“Yes,” Eli chokes out, his heart beating an erratic pulse in his ears.

Victor’s clasp tightens imperceptibly and fire spreads to the very tips of Eli’s fingers and toes. Something like anger flashes in the older man’s eyes, and he gives him a smile that is all teeth. “Yes what?”

“Yes,” Eli swallows against the dryness of his mouth, “Yes Daddy.”

Before Eli realizes it, Victor is back in his seat as the sales assistant scrambles in with the gray suit. Eli is left gaping in the wake of the frenzied moment, and he feels like he’s having an out-of-body experience as he is coaxed by the oblivious assistant to change into the gray suit. 

When he steps out of the curtained fitting area, he heads back to the elevated surface and looks in the lighted tri-fold mirror. He comes back into himself when Victor walks up and smoothes out invisible wrinkles on the garment. 

He tilts his head as he assesses Eli’s form reflected in the glass. “We’ll take the navy,” he says without looking in the direction of the associate. “My baby was right: he does look quite good in the blue.”

Eli gawks at the name that Victor gives him, and he knows the other man purposefully used it to throw off Eli in front of the unaware employee. Victor shoots him a smirk, but Eli still feels the pure smugness radiating off Victor’s body as he is led back into the fitting room and away from his heated gaze.


End file.
